18 January 2008

Drive-Thru Hell. And other necessities.

I love the Epicurious blog, even though Neal Pollack and that freaky, soon-to-be outcast child of his drive me NUTS. But hey, that's another post. (And Pollack did come REAL close to redeeming himself with his discription of his visit to the Fancy Food Fair. Or something.)

ANYWAY. The post that caught my eye this morning is in reference to ordering at a drive-thru. Now, I've already addressed this somewhere else...was it here? Can't remember. But four of my children/children-in-law/niece/nephews work for a major food chain and honey...I know stuff you don't even want to HEAR.

But I digress.When we travel, it's usually The Nice Kid, The Not Nice Kid, The Big Boy and me. And when it comes to speaking to a flat board, The Big Boy is just fucking not-on-this-planet. THEN, I read today's Epicurious post and hey! he's one of a multitude of drive-thru ordering challenged! WTF?

We pull up to the ordering board. Now, I've been in this particular institution for 22 years and I pretty much know where the emergency exits are. So, I've prepped everyone. They have stated their preferences. I have ORGANIZED those preferences. There are four people in this car and three of them want:2 Sprites1 large unsweetened tea1 chicken tenders2 ham & swiss

The OTHER resident, who is usually driving because he can SEE and not because he can DRIVE, is the one placing the order, The Order Placer. And it's all downhill from there.

(Now see, because I've been hearing the stories for so long, I KNOW...you don't fuck with the ordering girl. Because if you DO....well, let us speak of Ordering Hell. Number One? You ain't gonna get the order you ordered. There's going to be SOMETHING wrong. Number Two? There are going to be excess body products in your food, courtesy of the kitchen workers. And if you think I'm making this up, I'll let you speak to The Child From The Defective Gene Pool (who has redeemed herself) and let her explain to you about sexual secretions in food from the restaurant that a major Southern magazine named the Best Fried Chicken in the World. Repeat: I'm not making this up.)

We pull up to the window. We have the above-mentioned order, and then there's the Order Placer. He will say:"I'll have a Sprite please."And then he'll stop. And sit there.And the Order Screen Person will say, "Is that all?"And he's say,"No. I'll have another Sprite please."And then he'll stop. And sit there.And the Order Screen Person will say, "Is that all?"And he'll say, "I need an order of chicken tenders."And the Order Screen Person will say, "Hot, Mild, Spicy, Extra-Spicy, House Special or Buffalo?"And he'll turn around and look at everyone in the car, the majority of whom have GONE TO SLEEP BY NOW, and I'll say, "House Special."And he'll turn around and address the Order Screen Person and say, "House Special."And the Order Screen Person will say, "Anything else?"And he'll sit there. And then he'll say, "I need two ham & swiss."Sixty second pause. He sits there.The Board's not talking......"and a large unsweetened tea and another Sprite."Sixty second pause. He sits there.Still no response from The Board....."and a Reuben."And there will be this dead silence and then in about sixty seconds this voice will come on and say, "I apologize. We've had a change in shift. What would you like?"And then the BRAINS of this operation, who is so damn smart she's been sitting in the passenger seat LISTENING to this gibberish, will lean up and say:"I need three regular Sprites, a large unsweetened tea, an order of regular chicken tenders, two ham and swiss, and a reuben. Please."And son-of-a-bitch if they don't put that shit in a bag.Who'd a thunk it?

Family dynamics of ordering in a drive through can be trying and hilarious at the same time.My oldest, always thinks he has to practically get in the front seat with me to order. Of course, he sits on the right side of the car.The youngest, always orders last, and, he always wants to read the entire menu, even though 9 times out of 10 he orders the same thing.I am just thankful we aren't travelling all over town anymore for the prizes they put in the kid meals.

I order the same thing everytime and I know exactly the same way everytime. At least 50% of the time, something get screwed up.The worst part is, I usually have to drive home and THEN find out that they screwed up and then vent to Dory, who just rolls her eyes and sighs at me. And mine is the EASY order. Dory's is the one that you have to order in two breaths for one sandwich! And they screw mine up! For the Love, people. How hard can it be to listen and punch buttons and get paid for it?